A Pig, Really? My Life is Now a Rural Comedy
Seriously? A pig? In my yard? I’m pretty sure I accidentally wandered into a poorly written sitcom and didnt realize it. Apparently, some escaped porker decided that my meticulously-maintained petunias were the ideal grazing spot. And get this – he refuses to leave!
I understand animals escape. Happens. You call Animal Control, they catch the critter, everyone moves on with their lives. Except in my case, apparently. This isnt a skittish little runt either; this is a potbellied pig, and he’s got opinions. He surveys my property like he owns it, grunting disdainfully at any attempts to coax him out with apples (because of course, everyone suggests apples).
My neighbors are finding this endlessly amusing, naturally. Its cute! they chirp, while I’m silently battling a rapidly escalating sense of absurdity and the growing realization that my landscaping budget is about to take a serious hit. Im pretty sure hes plotting something. Maybe hell start demanding tiny pig-sized furniture.
Honestly, the level of commitment required to deal with this…this situation…is astounding. I just wanted to trim my roses! Is that too much to ask? Apparently not when a rogue pig is staging an occupation in your backyard.
